The Brilliance of Fantasy
by Angel from the Sea
Summary: A reflection of Dumbledore and Severus's relationship. Dumbledore attempts to convince Severus of the benefits of hope. Is he successful? Well, read on!  No slash


**Just a few words about ol' Dumbles and Sev. I really like the two, should I write more of them? A story perhaps? We'll see for what time allows.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these two, they're just fish in the wonderful pond that JKR created for us mermaids to play with.  
****...and the song belongs to Starkid Potter and co. and they're wonderful work. Mustn't forget about them!**

_Home  
__I've heard the word before  
__It's never meant  
__Much more  
__Than just a thing  
__I've never had  
__A place  
__They say hey, know you're place  
__I've never had a place  
__To even know  
__Or a face that I could go to  
__If I needed someone there_

The old wizard, sagacious with too much knowledge, stared up into the black sky. As another wizard had pointed out, there were no stars.

"_Look up, Headmaster, and gaze into the blackness. At best, one could argue that the sky is a dark blue at night. But tonight, sadly, there are no stars to make the sky appear brighter. The sky is meant to be black. The stars only give the allusion of a hint of blue in the sky."_

"_Dear boy," the elder wizard explained. "There are stars in the sky, one must just imagine them. Look." he said pointing up towards the dark sky. "Can you not see the bright pin-pricks of light that beg to shine brighter?"_

_The younger one answered, "No, I cannot see them. They are not truly there and one cannot waste away in his fabrication of fantasy, can he?" The boy in black stood and the wind rustled his hair. His right arm hovered over his left forearm. "He calls me. I hope to be back shortly, as shortly as He allows." Before the elder had a chance to respond, dissolving into black mist, Severus disappeared. _

But there were stars, the Headmaster was sure of it. He was sure that Severus's eyes were going bad on him. He was positive that there was something worth fighting for in this bleak world. Something good would come out of their trying endeavors.

His once-bright star, Severus, faded each time he came back from Him. Voldemort attacked his mind, and Severus would resist as always. But he could not continue forever like this, could he? No, soon Tom would be destroyed, and with it, the dark intentions of his followers. A sigh escaped his lips.

It was weak, because sighing was a sign of hopelessness. By sighing, one acknowledged defeat. Wordlessly, but nevertheless, one admitted failure. And failure was not to be tolerated. But alas, old Albus felt that he had failed everyone—even Severus. He remembered another of their conversations, taken place a month after he 'rescued' Severus from the Dark Lord.

"_I see it now." Severus spoke to the Headmaster. "He is a thunderstorm, trying to rid the world of hope. Hope _is_ ludicrous though, feeling like there is something worth living for…"_

_Albus interrupted. "Ah but Severus, been having doubts about life? You live for yourself. Do you not dream of a brighter future? I think you should ponder that thought for a while longer, see where it takes you."_

"_No Headmaster. I do not wish for the future to be brighter. I want the present to be brighter. But since now is now, and it sure as Hell is not merry, I've given up. I've lost. I _am_ lost. The Dark Lord's shadow threatens to overpower your light. I can't let that happen. _I _can deal with the darkness as I have for so long. But they…it's the others I worry for."_

_The old wizard smiled down on Severus. "That's good my boy. Wonderful. But I don't think you can deal with it as well as you say you can." Severus stood up, a scowl on his face. "Peace Severus, I merely meant to say that you could use some guidance—from me. Lemon drop?" _

Severus was too far gone after hearing Dumbledore's patronizing words, and rushed out of his office, perhaps to go flying. But as always, the very next day, Severus returned, asking forgiveness. Mind you, he never used the words, "I'm sorry," but made it known that it was his intent.

Albus made his way lightly back to his office and settled into his grand armchair. He fiddled with some of the trinkets that accumulated on his desk with time, trying to waste time. He could not think about what his dear—son really—was going through. How many torture curses was he being subjected to? How much longer would it be until he was safe with people who cared for him? How much healing would be needed to get his favorite fighter on his feet again? He called for Fawkes, and let her sit on his arm as he stroked her bright red and gold feathers.

Severus was much like a phoenix, Albus mused. Every Meeting, he would come back burnt and destroyed, but like a phoenix, he found good inside of him, and a new spark helped him back up. But, like a phoenix, Severus was not immortal. He could perish and break.

The Headmaster sent the brightly colored bird away and rested his chin on his hands. Why must everything in life be so difficult?

The apparation wards were lowered in the Headmaster's office, so that Severus could apparate straight to Dumbledore, but Albus worried. What if his surrogate son was unable to apparate? What if he was too weak? Then where would he turn, to whom would he seek solace with until Albus realized his absence? He had come to think of Severus as a son, as his own father was never much of a father. Albus did his best to tend to Severus's wounds, even when he refused help. Worries plagued his mind, and he waited, knowing that all would be well once Severus was home.

Behind his desk, the floorboards creaked. Albus spun in his swivel chair, and a gentle smile appeared on his wrinkled face when he saw who made the sound. "I see you have come back to me as always, my child." He worried though, that someday, Severus wouldn't return. His smile faded slightly as he took in the appearance of the man before him.

Severus stood with a face paler than normal, his hair hanging slightly limper than usual. He noisily swallowed back words of anger at the old man for making him continue his spying, and gave into his trademark smirk. Even his smirk though, had lost a bit of the brilliance—if a smirk ever had any—that it once had. He took two steps forward until he was less than a meter away from his mentor. "It's decent to be back."

Albus arose from his comfortable seat, and gestured that Severus should sit. Severus shook his head minutely, and the other simply nodded.

The elder wizard took out his wand and performed the usual spells on the former to assure his well-being. Finding that he was well enough to get rest and trudge through another week, he patted the dark-clad wizard's shoulder. "It's wonderful to have you home."

The two wizards carried out their usual buisness, carefully continuing their precarious positions as defenders of the light, while attempting to throw happiness in amongst the lugubrious days that dragged on and on. Albus mentioned to Severus once, "Hope is something that everyone should have, whether it be hope that someone will realize that you are sincerely lacking in warm socks, or just a hope that somewhere, someday your life will right itself. Someday everything will fall right into place, but if only we had a way to make it all fall faster every day. And that," he said with a knowing twinkle in his eyes, "that is the brilliance of fantasies."

-A year later-

_Severus stole a quick glance at his mentor's—his surrogate father's—eyes, and saw acceptance. He saw forgiveness and hope for the future. He watched a hint of a smile play at the edges of the Headmaster's eyes, acknowledging Severus. Severus bowed his head, and leaping forward, growled the two words. "Avada Kedavra!" Severus Snape walked swiftly away from the scene, and into Dumbledore's office. "Father," he called out softly, so no one but himself could hear. "I'm home. The place you thought I called home for so long, and only until you're gone, do I realize that it was you who made it a home. And I wish that, no I cannot wish. But wasn't it you who had told me that wishing was right? Well what am I to do now!" His short temper getting the better of him, he rambled on. "I could tell you, 'I told you so' but I guess that wouldn't be right, would it? Well Albus, I told you so! Wishing is what induces men to waste away dreaming. If I could wish, I'd wish that you were still here. I'd wish that Potter never lived and that the Blacks had kept their son in line. I'd wish that Merope Gaunt would've lived and given Tom a happier childhood so we wouldn't have to deal with him as a Dark Lord. And I would wish that I could have known peace oor happiness as a child. I would wish for so much, if wishing ever could help." _

_

* * *

_

**Sorry it ended on a depressing note. Err, a G flat I believe? Ha, well enjoy the rest of January and hopefully my inspiration will return to me regarding, To Live Again. Bye!**


End file.
